


Binary Sunset

by badwolfbadwolf



Series: Corvo Bianco [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: (by this I mean two people having sex while two people consensually watch), Alcohol, Alternate Universe Crossover, Anal Sex, Coming In Pants, Corvo Bianco (The Witcher), Dandelion is a Sex God, Exhibitionism, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Geralt has a beard and this is important to me, Getting Together, Light Dirty Talk, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Mutual Pining, Open Relationships, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Self-cest, Sharing a Bed, Spit Roasting, Time Travel, as is Dandelion's hair, consensual voyeurism, versatile characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: Chapter 2: The porny epilogue!  5k of four-way sex between Geralt/Jaskier/older!Geralt/Dandelion.  With a tiny bit of loving shmoop.------------Geralt and Jaskier show up at Corvo Bianco, a winery renowned (according to Jaskier) for its lavish parties, looking for a relaxing vacation at the coast. Instead, tucked away in this charming little vineyard with its stunning views, giant porch, and oversized-beds, they find… themselves?  Themselves, but a bit older and wiser and happily committed, and with some really great hair.A Book Geraskier/Netflix Geraskier crossover featuring timeline shenanigans, wine, self!cest, and percolating romantic feelings.Or: Geralt and Jaskier see their future (and Jaskier kind of totally has sex with his future).
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier/Dandelion
Series: Corvo Bianco [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803205
Comments: 66
Kudos: 352
Collections: Geraskier Midsummer Mini Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Geraskier Midsummer Mini-Bang! Artwork by the very talented [vebirascanvas](http://vebirascanvas.tumblr.com). Check out their super awesome stuff!
> 
> For Netflix!Geraskier, this exists a few years into their travels, but before Geralt enacts the Law of Surprise. For the other set, they are a blend between the books and game, and are a bit older than the other two.
> 
> A gazillion thank yous to ssleif for beta-ing and being an excellent cheerleader and friend! You are so appreciated!

Jaskier never expected Geralt would take him up on his vague offer of heading to the coast, so when he one day said gruffly, “The coast might be nice,” Jaskier nearly fell out of his chair. They waited until spring was in full bloom and the last of a pack of wraiths was chased out of an abandoned mine before heading to the west, Jaskier on foot and Geralt on Roach.

“There’s a vineyard we can visit, Geralt!” Jaskier said, strumming his lute idly and stopping to tune one of the strings with a cocked head. “There were lots of parties. I was quite a bit hammered for pretty much the entire summer, but I do remember having a lovely time.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said eloquently.

They camped and hunted and camped some more, the warmth of spring meaning Jaskier no longer had the excuse to cuddle up to Geralt’s bulky body throughout the night. They’d traveled together off and on for years, but Jaskier still couldn’t be sure it was anything more than convenience on Geralt’s part, even though he himself was desperately, heart-wrenchingly, head-over-heels in love with the man. Geralt always seemed fine when they parted, unaffected as always, though he was often quick to share his cloak or his blankets. But Jaskier didn’t dare ask for more.

The forest gave way to a mountainscape, which gave way to rolling, fragrant fields of wildflowers and the tang of salt on the air that even Jaskier could smell.

“We’re close?” he asked in Geralt’s direction, feeling a bit of excitement tighten in his stomach. Though they wandered constantly and were always seeing new places, it had been a long time since they’d had a moment to just stop and be still anywhere, and Jaskier was quite looking forward to a rest.

“You’re the one who’s been here before,” Geralt said.

“It was a while ago.”

Geralt said nothing, and it was only a matter of an hour or so before they saw the first fields of tended crops which soon led into the faint outlines of a coastal town. Jaskier nearly crowed in delight as they drew closer, the prospect of civilization thrilling. Eating Geralt’s cooking of whatever strange squirrel creatures that had been ensnared in their traps wasn’t ideal, and he was looking forward to a good meal and a softer bed. And perhaps if there was a room with only one… he and Geralt would be forced to share and Geralt couldn’t say anything on the matter.

Soon there saw large hills that stretched upwards beyond the far side of the town, and on the nearest one were lines of grape vines and olive trees looking green and plentiful in the distance and a large compound of houses set a ways back, small from this distance— the fabled Corvo Bianco. Jaskier swept his view from the hill to the town to the blue sea stretched out beyond, breathing in deeply and not being able to hold in a smile.

“You have such good ideas, Jaskier,” he said to himself, not even minding when Geralt rolled his eyes at him. “Shall we view the coast first?”

“Perhaps it’d be best to find a place to stay and settle Roach in first.”

“Right, of course,” Jaskier agreed easily. “Maybe we can see if the vineyard has a space for us if they’ve not already let out all of their accomodations for the summer?”

“Sounds expensive,” Geralt grunted.

“We’re on vacation, Geralt,” Jaskier said cheerfully. “When if not now is the time for indulgences?”

Geralt frowned at him. “It’s not an indulgence if you go into debt for it.”

“I know the owner. He owes me a favor.”

Geralt eyed him. “What type of favor?”

“Nothing like that. Do you think I’m so licentious that I’d just dip my nib in any inkwell even if —”

“Yes,” Geralt interrupted and Jaskier harrumphed to himself. Well. He wasn’t wrong.

“No, there were some gambling debts after quite a bit of drinking, and he owes me at least a fortnight’s accomodations. Come on, it’s quite lovely. You’ll like it there.”

Geralt let Jaskier lead the way uphill on the winding path through the quiet village, passing shoppers and horses, none of them giving a Witcher even a second glance for which they were both grateful. They stopped for a quick drink and for Geralt to barter to replenish some of their supplies while Jaskier perused the storefronts as he waited, Jaskier growing more excited the closer they came to the estate.

“They say it’s built on elven ruins,” Jaskier babbled on, reaching for his lute again and strumming delicately as they climbed up a narrowing cobblestone path. “There’s a lovely kind of magic in the hills here. The sea, the olive branches, the wind sweeping through the vineyard as the sun sets. It’s all quite… romantic.” Jaskier ducked his face down, hiding his blush. It was true that he fell in love easily and often, but he didn’t want Geralt to be worried that he’d do that to _him_. He strummed again, trying to remember the tune he’d composed last time he was here.

They rounded a corner and then were struck with the massiveness of the compound before them— big, beige stone buildings with red, curving shingles, and luscious greenery growing everywhere. There was a larger manor in the back with a giant, wrapping porch, and several smaller outbuildings in a circle around a large courtyard with a still fountain in the center. To the side could be heard the murmur of running water of what was likely a stream that fed down into the coast below. It was beautiful and picturesque, just as Jaskier remembered it, and to be here with Geralt made it all the better.

Geralt dismounted and led Roach forward as they walked on, searching for the stable. There were a few people present, going about their daily chores, and one pointed them in the right direction. The stable was around the side opposite of the stream and once they’d left Roach in the hands of a stableboy with a few coins, they made their way up the winding path to the manor house which was perched at the highest point of the hill.

The porch they’d seen from below was massive, and now that they were closer, Jaskier could see it was made of wood and filled with green topiaries and benches furnished with large pillows that looked positively inviting. The thought of sitting closely with Geralt one of these evenings, just the two of them taking in the sunset and the gorgeous view of the coastline, knees brushing and slightly tipsy with wine, Geralt smiling at him and leaning closer…

“Perhaps we’ll find your man here,” Geralt said, interrupting Jaskier’s fantasy.

“Yes,” Jaskier agreed quickly, and they walked up the stairs side by side.

Jaskier glanced around and saw a couple seated on the farthest couch, one’s legs draped over the other’s lap, and as they got closer, Jaskier could see that they were involved in a quite passionate-looking kiss. Jaskier smiled a bit and raised his eyebrows, always pleased to see others happily pursuing their passions, and he turned to see Geralt’s assuredly less amenable reaction, only to be surprised at the way he looked suddenly tense with his hand coming up to clutch his medallion, which he only did when there was some magic nearby that it was sensing.

Jaskier finished the step he was making without thought, and the floorboard of the wooden porch suddenly made a loud creak that caused the two men on the couch to finally notice them and break apart. The instant they did this, Jaskier gasped and Geralt threw his arm out to shove Jaskier behind him, drawing his sword with one swift scrape of ringing metal.

Because right in front of them, with kiss-reddened lips and tousled hair was Geralt and Jaskier, blinking right back at them. Well, not quite _exactly_ them. The longer Jaskier stared, the more inconceivable details he took in. The Jaskier in front of him was dressed similarly to his own tastes, with an open lilac doublet with lace cuffs, and his hair was different from Jaskier’s, blonder and longer and a bit more curled, and he had a light goatee. But he was absolutely, inarguably _Jaskier_. And Geralt, whom this Jaskier was perched on, had his hands still wrapped around Jaskier’s neck and waist (his neck and waist!), and seemed perhaps slightly older, with a heavier, still-silver beard, and white hair drawn back into a ponytail. But otherwise he was completely the same, down to the open black shirt and muscled chest, same worn black boots, and an expression of laser-focused alert that Jaskier had seen many times over.

“What dark magic is this?” the real Geralt next to him said, sword pointed towards the pair on the couch, his hand grabbing onto Jaskier’s doublet as if to convince himself that he was still there behind him and not on the couch with the fake Geralt’s arm around him.

“Who are you?” the other Geralt said in the exact same voice, shifting the Jaskier on his lap so one hand was free and obviously looking to grab a sword though none could be seen from Jaskier’s view. Jaskier watched the ease of the other Jaskier on the man’s lap from over Geralt’s shoulder, realizing that he was focusing on the wrong things here, and shouldn’t be looking at himself and Geralt being caught making out, and instead should be concerned about dark magic or fairies, or some type of new beast that could shapeshift and they should be running right now.

The two Geralts stared at each other for a long moment, the air charged as they sized each other up, and then a bubble of laughter from the Jaskier seated on the other Geralt’s lap broke the spell.

“They’re us, don’t you see? But younger.”

The other Geralt grumbled in the exact way that Geralt normally did, making Jaskier open his eyes more in shock to see their own dynamic played out, but in a much more intimate way.

“Time travelers?” he asked the other Jaskier, and the man eased off of his lap and slowly stood, putting his hands up to placate the two of them standing, and then smiling easily at them. The other Geralt stood as well, the two of them brushing shoulders.

“Perhaps. The ruins, you know, darling… and we’re so close to the midsummer solstice. They’ve been humming.”

“Now wait a minute,” Jaskier cut in, trying to muscle his way around Geralt and being completely unsuccessful so he settled for just speaking over his shoulder. “Are you saying that this is what we look like when we’re older? I mean, Geralt, you haven’t aged a day, you just gained a stylish hairdo and a really nice beard, but I don’t think my hair will ever look like _that_.”

The other Jaskier laughed and it was so peculiar, because it was _him_ laughing, except it wasn’t at all. “How old are you, if I may inquire?” he said easily, and the casual way that he took the other Geralt’s hand and laced their fingers together did something funny to Jaskier’s stomach.

“Twenty-five,” Jaskier answered, suddenly very curious to hear how old the other two were.

“Well I’m forty-eight and Geralt is a million and this is perfect. See, Geralt, I was an idiot back then, but also a cute one, and your idiot, too.”

And the sigh that the other Geralt gave him and fond look was so strikingly familiar that Jaskier giggled and his Geralt was finally lowering his sword and looking just confused rather than alarmed.

“Elven ruins?” his Geralt said, hand still in Jaskier’s doublet but relaxing slightly.

The other Geralt tapped his own medallion. “I feel them pulsing stronger closer to the midsummer solstice. Strange magic, indeed.”

“This has happened here before, believe it or not. Minus the bit where the time travelers are actually ourselves,” Dandelion said, laughing a bit at the absurdity of it all. “There were a few folks who came through last year— a butcher and his wife, and a whole monastery actually the year before that. This year there’s only been a few cattle wandering nearby that looked a bit suspicious, but we thought that was it.”

“And did they… make it back to their own time?” Jaskier’s Geralt said, wary.

“Yes,” the older Geralt said matter-of-factly. “Well anyone who wanted to, as far as we can tell.”

“We’ve investigated a bit but there seems to be nothing to be done,” Dandelion said. “You two have both passed through and are well, yes?”

Jaskier patted his own chest and Geralt’s forearm, and they both felt solid enough. “I think so.”

Dandelion smiled again, and it really was very lovely, Jaskier noticed. “Well no reason to think you couldn’t pass back through like the others have, when you are ready. But perhaps it might be fun to talk and compare stories first?”

“Well yes, this is wonderful,” Jaskier said, finally wrestling himself free of Geralt’s hold and sidestepping him to beam at the other two. “We get to see into our future!” He shut his mouth quickly, though, as he realized the implications of what he was saying, because their future was apparently making out on a porch overlooking a vineyard with a view of the coast, and he was suddenly incredibly frightened that that was not Geralt’s idea of a happy ending.

“I’m Jaskier,” he said dumbly, sticking his hand out to… himself. “But I suppose you knew that.”

The other Jaskier looked at him with a bit of a smile and leaned forward to grasp hands. “I go by Dandelion.”

“Ah, really? Different stage name then? Well that will make things easier,” Jaskier chirped, shaking Dandelion’s hand with vigor. “Love your doublet.” The other man smiled at him and soon they were laughing while the two Geralts looked on with a pained expression, which only made the two of them laugh more.

“Curious how we chose different names, yes,” Dandelion said with a hand on his chin. “I had to find a new one when I went off to find myself, as you know— I barely remember that I was once Julian. Dandelion had a bit of whimsy to it, though. Flowery enough for a poet, anyhow, and fits in the mouth nicely. How’d you come by ‘Jaskier’?”

Jaskier laughed a bit, remembering. “It means buttercup when translated. I like the flower, of course. And they’re a bit sunny and, erm, poisonous.” He hadn’t ever told even Geralt that, and he didn’t know why it seemed so personal, but he felt his face blush the littlest bit.

“And this is still Geralt,” Dandelion said as he tugged on his Geralt’s hand to bring him even closer to his side. “Which I suppose will get a bit confusing.”

Jaskier bowed effusively, blushing a bit more, because as attracted as he was to his current Geralt, clearly aging was going to be _very_ kind to him indeed. The beard on him looked quite attractive, as well as the way he was led so dociley by Dandelion.

“This is, uh, my Geralt,” Jaskier said, cheeks getting even _more_ flushed, because he wasn’t really _his_ Geralt but he didn’t know how else to explain. The two Geralts grunted at each other, still clearly unsure if one another were to be trusted.

“Come, sit with us and enjoy some of the wine from the vineyard,” Dandelion said, sweeping his hand to indicate the open bottle they had on a side table that was made out of a vintage barrel. “I’m sure there are many questions you have and much to talk about. And we can of course give you a tour.”

Jaskier smiled and sat down on the couch and kicked Geralt until he sat down next to him stiffly. It was overly large, certainly enough to fit the four of them, and the older Geralt left briefly and then returned with two more wine glasses. When he handed Jaskier his, he smiled very slightly, which made Jaskier incredibly hot under the collar. He tried not to show anything, not sure if his wild crush on apparently every iteration of Geralt would be welcome to either him or Dandelion, and certainly not wanting to make his Geralt think he was lusting after… himself. Oh, this was going to get so awkward.

“So how did you end up here?” Jaskier began, holding his cup out to have it filled high. “Do you live here? Do you own this place? And what happened to the previous owner, Baron Rossell? He owed me a great deal of money, actually, and in fact that’s what we were coming here to do, to collect on some debts.”

“Ah, yes, well, he did end up going bankrupt and was forced to sell. Eventually Geralt was given the deed as repayment from some grateful townsfolk, and it seemed the perfect place to finally settle down a bit. We’ve put in quite a bit of work, planted some more olive trees to replace the ones that had been fading due to lack of proper upkeep, and Geralt put in an herb garden for his potions. And Ciri—” Here he cut off at the look on Geralt’s face.

“Perhaps there are things that you should not know yet,” the older Geralt said, his tone not unkind. “There are many good things ahead, friend, but many things that myself and Dandelion took much time to figure out on our own.”

Jaskier was drawn to the casual way that Dandelion was pressed against his Geralt, the way the Witcher looked at him with what he could now tell was unmasked affection, and it made his heart hurt just a little bit. But also there was a stirring of hope inside too, because, if this affection was possible between these two… there was hope for him as well.

“What are your intentions? Will you stay here with us for a while?” the older Geralt asked.

“Do you think two Jaskiers can live in this world?” Jaskier said with a smile.

The older Geralt returned the smile back a bit fondly. “It might be fun to find out.” At this Jaskier’s heart nearly stopped and his cheeks heated again. “But so far the world has not exploded, so I imagine we’ll be safe enough for the two of you to remain here for as long as you’d like.”

The younger Geralt piped up next to Jaskier, clearly irritated. “Jaskier dragged me here for a vacation, so I suppose this will have to do.” And Jaskier looked over at him and then looked to Dandelion, and the two of them burst into a fit of giggles again.

“Come now, more wine and then we can have more fun,” Dandelion said, filling up Geralt’s glass and motioning for him to drink. Jaskier took a sip, rolling the rich taste of tannins along his tongue and then swallowing, the taste wonderful after the long journey and the threat of swords only a few moments ago.

“It’s good,” he said, taking a bigger sip and then licking his lips.

“It’s been a learning process,” the older Geralt said. “But we’ve finally figured out what we’re doing.”

“It only took a few years,” Dandelion said with a smile.

“Four, maybe five,” Geralt teased back, and then Dandelion leaned forward and kissed him right on the lips, and Jaskier stared at their easy intimacy and the way their lips just lingered for a moment, before looking away and decidedly not at his Geralt who seemed even more stiff next to him.

There were a few more minutes of conversation as Jaskier watched the other two not being able to keep their hands off of each other for a second, and then Dandelion stood and announced that he was taking Jaskier on a tour and that the two Geralts needed to talk.

“It will be good for you,” he said to both of them, pulling Jaskier by the hand. “Though I’m not sure how much conversation will happen if he’s anything like you, Geralt.” Then he smiled at his Geralt to take any sting out of the words and leaned forward to kiss him once more. “I tease, darling, you know this.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied back, that easy smile on his handsome face again. “Very well, Dandelion. You show Jaskier around. Perhaps you can also choose one of the vacant houses for them to take for the time being.”

“Lovely idea, darling.” And then he pulled Jaskier by the hand, leaving a bewildered looking Geralt behind with his slightly older, more smiley twin, and Jaskier laughed at the image, just a little bit tipsy at this point and suddenly very excited for wherever this trip was going to take them.

***

Dandelion led Jaskier around the property, showing him the herb garden that Geralt had planted, the path up to the vineyard proper, and a tour of the wine cellar where he picked up another bottle and led them out to two wooden chairs.

“Now before we get too far into our cups,” he began, making a hefty pour into Jaskier’s ballooned wine glass, “have you two fucked yet?”

Jaskier turned bright red again, taking a large sip to fortify himself against this conversation. “N… no...,” he admitted. “I’ve been… I think that he…” Jaskier frowned down into the wine, not wanting to share too much, even though Dandelion knew all of his secrets because he was, well, him.

“Geralt’s an idiot. Surely you must know this by now.”

“Right, but— “

“Couldn’t name a feeling he’s feeling if it hit him in the face.”

“Yes, I do know this.”

Dandelion smiled. “You’ll get there.”

Jaskier was wistful, feeling his heart twist slightly in his chest with uncertainty. “Hmmm. Perhaps.”

They tipped back more wine in companionable silence.

“We should probably get you settled into your quarters so you don’t have to drunkenly unpack.”

“There’s always tomorrow for that,” Jaskier said, laughing. But he let Dandelion pull him up, stumbling into him as he realized he was a bit drunker than he had thought he was when he had been sitting down.

“Come, I’ll make sure there’s only one bed.” Dandelion winked, linking elbows with him and pulling him along to one of the smaller houses along the courtyard, each building done in white stucco and red shingles just like the main house. After a quick show of the facilities and instructing the boy they’d seen before at the stable to gather and deposit their things there, the two traipsed back to see what the Geralts were up to.

***

It turned out the Geralts were not where Jaskier and Dandelion had left them, and by the time they found them by the wishing well, Jaskier was sobering up and growing tired.

“Perhaps you should head off to bed. I’ve shown Jaskier where you are to stay,” Dandelion said kindly to both of them, and Geralt surprised Jaskier by nodding and clasping him briefly on the forearm before moving to stand.

“Thank you. Your hospitality is most generous,” he said, cordial but not without warmth.

Dandelion smiled in return, giving Jaskier a knowing look before linking hands with his Geralt and giving them a merry wave.

Jaskier shrugged at Geralt as if to say, well weirder things have happened to us, and started to lead the way back to their quarters.

“What’d you talk about with Dandelion?” Geralt said, never one to beat around the bush.

“What’d _you_ talk about with— uh, Geralt?” Jaskier said in reply.

“How they got here.”

Well, that was vague, but certainly what Jaskier was used to when it came to Geralt’s conversation.

“Well, I suppose we did the same,” Jaskier mused, face flushing and glad that the sun was setting so it would hide his color. “Quite odd though, isn’t it? This whole thing?”

Geralt smiled ruefully. “That’s an understatement.”

Jaskier nodded and smiled back, feeling lighter again, and pushing open the door to their little bungalow. And yes, there was indeed only one bed. The saddlebags were on the floor next to it, a small, unlit hearth on one side of the room and a plain table with two chairs on the other, as well as a small dresser and nightstand. It was not large by any stretch, but homey enough, the wooden beams reaching high, and a window that had a beautiful view overlooking the sunset and the vineyard, with the sea to the other side.

“Are you tired?” Jaskier asked, busying himself removing his boots and trying not to watch too much as Geralt began stripping out of his clothes perfunctorily.

“It was a long journey, Jaskier.” And he pulled off his trousers, folding them and setting them on the chair and then slipped under the covers with only his smallclothes on, making Jaskier a bit red in the face. It was warm in the near-summer heat, no need for anything more to wear, and he said a little thank you in his head to Dandelion as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

“Are you coming to bed?” Geralt asked, eyes already closed and looking serene for once in his life.

It was still early, but Jaskier _was_ feeling sleepy, and he wouldn’t pass up that invitation for anything in the world.

“Yes,” he said simply, shuttering the windows and then climbing on top of the bed, the warmth of Geralt pleasant next to him, and the sound of his deep breathing as he slipped into sleep as soothing as any lullaby Jaskier had ever heard.

***

Jaskier came to the next morning slowly, his brain fuzzy as he registered the sunlight seeping through the sides of the shutters, the softness of the bed beneath him, and the weight of Geralt’s bulky body pressed against him. It felt wonderful to be well-rested and waking of his own volition, and not Geralt ripping his blanket from him telling him to get his lazy butt up, or the piercing rays of sun inside their overly warm tent. He yawned and shifted, pulling the sheet up from where it had drifted down to his waist, shivering as it dragged over his clothed cock which was half-hard as was typical in the morning for him any time he woke up next to Geralt.

He took the time to look his fill of the man next to him, first checking that the Witcher’s breathing was still even, and then his eyes wandered over his long eyelashes, his soft-looking lips, his face lax with sleep. Geralt’s hair was a mess, spread out over the pillow every which way, one arm up and tucked under his head, accentuating his bicep and the thick muscles in his chest and shoulders. There were so many scars, their colors ranging from raised red to soft pink to faded silver, and criss-crossing all over Geralt’s pale, almost too-trim body, and Jaskier catalogued each of them that he had been there for, remembering the few that Geralt would only grunt about and not tell him the whole story. He saw Geralt shirtless so often that it was almost easy to forget how many scars there were, and how many times the man had been near to death but had held on through nerve alone, without even a boast to his name. Jaskier swallowed, feeling lucky that this man let him tag along, undeserving as he was.

Jaskier couldn’t help but look lower, watching as the sheet was pulled perilously low to Geralt’s hips, that incredibly attractive cut of muscle that v’d into his legs just visible, and what looked like possibly a matching half hard-on under the sheet.

Geralt shifted, rolling towards him and his eyes suddenly opened, yellow and focused, boring into Jaskier. “Are you staring, Jaskier?”

Jaskier froze, heartbeat ratcheting up before shaking his head quickly. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again when he realized he had nothing to say, feeling a bit like a floppy mouthed fish.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said, but he had a half-smile on his gorgeous face and then rolled over to sitting, his back to Jaskier as he reached for his trousers and then pulled them on.

Jaskier averted his eyes and bunched the sheet up further to hide his now fully hard cock, a bit embarrassed as he thought that surely Geralt could smell his arousal on him.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier asked, voice feeling awkward and sleep-rough.

Geralt stood, buttoning the front of his trousers and then headed to the edge of the bed to retrieve one of the saddlebags. He opened it and began to pull out the contents, stacking his few items on the dresser and putting his spare shirt in the top drawer. “Yes. The bed was soft. And you?”

Jaskier nodded, pulling himself together and after a monumental effort to will his hard-on away which was only partially successful, he began to dress himself as well. “Yes.” He didn’t want to say anything more, like how he always slept better when he was pressed next to Geralt, or how it was nice to be in a house for once and not worried about literal wolves creeping into their campsite at night. “I was thinking of heading to check out the coastline once I’ve eaten breakfast. Would you care to join me?”

“I am going to head to the town to resupply, but would meet you there later, if that would be amenable?”

Jaskier nodded quickly, pulling his doublet back on.

“The… other… uh, Geralt,” Geralt began, clearly having as much trouble with Jaskier on what to call the older man, “invited us for dinner.”

“Sounds like a good first day.”

Geralt hmmmed next to him, finishing dressing and looking just as handsome as always, but this time well-rested and even smiling slightly. “Indeed.”

***

The coast was lovely, even lovelier than Jaskier had remembered, and he took his time walking through the shops close to the water’s edge before taking off his boots and carrying them so he could walk with his bare feet in the sand. The water was still frigid, small waves coming up to lick at his toes, the sun bright and vibrant as it reflected across the water and right into his eyes. After only a few minutes Jaskier could feel it heating his neck, likely that he’d have a burn to show for it later, but it seemed worth it enough.

He sat after a while on an outcropping of rocks, trying not to smile too much when he saw Geralt’s dark figure heading towards him with a bundle of something in his hands. He settled down next to Jaskier on the rocks and Jaskier tried to not be too obvious watching Geralt as he watched the water, but he made such a pretty sight.

“For our hosts,” Geralt said as he showed Jaskier the contents of the bundle: a cheese wheel wrapped in cloth and a loaf of crusty bread.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Jaskier said, turning his eyes back to the waves and enjoying the sound of their quiet shifting, the call of the occasional seagull, and Geralt humming gently next to him. He’d learned to speak mermaid once, and Jaskier wondered if that’s what this was or just idle grumbling in that grumbly way of his. Either way, he didn’t mind at all.

“You do have good ideas, sometimes,” Geralt said, not looking at Jaskier. But the corner of his lip was turned upward and Jaskier broke out into a big smile. Geralt grumbled a bit and cut him off with a look before he could say anything else. “ _Sometimes._ ”

Jaskier chose to say nothing, letting Geralt have his moment, and basking in the rare praise.

They stayed in the sun for a while longer until their stomachs were grumbling and they decided to trek back to the vineyard on top of the hill.

***

The four of them ate dinner on an outside patio, shaded by an overhanging pergola thick with ivy. There were rich tomatoes covered in olive oil and fresh cheese next to Geralt’s offering from the market, poached pheasant and green beans, and several bottles of wine littering the center of the table.

“We have a cook,” Dandelion said a bit sheepishly, waving off their compliments. “I’m not much in the kitchen. I don’t know why he keeps me around, frankly. I have no talents.”

“You have a few,” Geralt said, pulling Dandelion into his lap and kissing him on the cheek. Their open affection made Jaskier turn pink and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Geralt. His face was unreadable, as usual, but his posture was stiff.

Dandelion got up after only a few moments, smiling at them both graciously and smoothing his hair back into place before helping to serve. The dinner conversation was easy, the older Geralt sharing more backstory on the vineyard and gently quizzing Jaskier’s Geralt on what he had been up to. The two swapped stories and made comparisons, apparently quite a lot the same between the two of them, with only minor differences in the details. By the time the two started comparing scars, Dandelion stood up and beckoned for Jaskier to follow him.

They headed back to the wine cellar, filling their glasses again, and Jaskier knew he had to be quite inebriated because the way Dandelion’s fingers brushed against his as he handed him back his glass seemed electrifying.

“Do you… Are you…” Jaskier began, unsure how to form his question. “I know that you and Geralt are together, obviously. And it’s obvious that you love him dearly.” Jaskier flushed again, because it was so _odd_ that he was talking about himself and yet not.

“Do I still sleep with others?” Dandelion asked.

Jaskier nodded, taking another drink, himself still confused on how he’d feel about this in the future.

“Yes. My love for Geralt is unwavering. And his for me. We occasionally will invite others to our bed, or sometimes I find myself in someone else's for an evening. But I always return to my love, to my home.”

His home. Geralt was his home. That statement felt completely true in Jaskier’s heart, and he tried not to let too much hope flutter up for himself.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Dandelion’s lips were wet with wine, eyes dark as he leaned closer.

Jaskier swallowed and nodded.

“Sometimes Geralt likes to watch.”

“Watch?”

“Yes. Me with another.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know what he would be… like.”

Dandelion’s smile grew wicked. “It’s what you imagine and more.”

Jaskier could feel himself getting more aroused the longer Dandelion talked, his doublet starting to stick to his skin with sweat. “You know…” he began, a half-formed idea percolating in the back of his increasingly inebriated brain. “What do you think it would be like… to kiss. To kiss yourself. This has to be a once in a lifetime opportunity that we’d be… fools to let pass up.” He could feel himself leaning in closer, wondering if this was the stupidest or the best idea that he’d ever had in his life.

Dandelion was smiling though, leaning closer too. “Of course we should,” he said, and then he closed the distance the rest of the way, brushing his lips against him softly. His facial hair tickled and Jaskier found he quite enjoyed it, and he leaned forward to deepen the kiss. And it was strange, so _strange_ , because he was doing the things he liked because he liked them too, because he _was_ him. Dandelion had apparently learned a few things with his tongue that Jaskier hadn’t, though, and soon they were full on snogging, bodies pressed tight while both held their wine glass that they feebly tried not to spill.

They broke away, laughing, lips red and just drunk enough to find the whole situation hilarious.

“Come, if your Geralt isn’t amenable at the moment, mine would certainly enjoy seeing the two of us enjoying ourselves. Though yours would probably like that as well. Maybe we can convince him.”

They stumbled their way up the steps of the wine cellar, Dandelion holding Jaskier’s hand while he flushed again, and when they showed up at the dinner table, Jaskier could feel the weight of the gaze of both Geralts on him like a blanket, and he felt his whole body ignite. His brain stuttered to the thought of having _two_ Geralts lavishing pleasure on him, and he thought he might explode at that very moment. Perhaps that could be _another_ night. Melitele, the prospects were endless.

“I was just about to show Jaskier around the house,” Dandelion said airily to both of them. “To my love’s younger counterpart, you are very welcome to join us if you so desire.”

Jaskier’s Geralt seemed to consider this and Jaskier held his breath, wondering if this might be the moment when something magical transpired and Geralt would suddenly have his hands on him and be professing his undying love as he entered his willing body… But no, he shook his head minutely, saying, “The wine has made me tired.”

Dandelion raised an eyebrow and Jaskier tried not to seem too disappointed, because he was in fact off to have sex with himself while another version of his very attractive and apparently very kinky object of his love was about to watch.

“The invitation is standing,” Dandelion said matter-of-factly, and the other Geralt nodded to show his agreement as well. “For when you are ready.”

Jaskier watched Geralt swallow, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining the way that his eyes flicked over Jaskier’s lips, his neck, and his half-hard cock in his pants before meeting his eyes.

“Or, you know,” Dandelion said, catching the way Geralt was staring at Jaskier like he was a piece of meat to be devoured. “You could always just watch. Both of you.” He nodded to indicate both of the Geralts seated there.

Jaskier felt heat flash across his skin as Geralt’s amber eyes snapped up to meet his again.

“Would that be alright with you, Jaskier?” he asked, voice rough.

Jaskier swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yes,” he said, breathless.

“Fantastic,” Dandelion said as he wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist and then leaned forward to breathe into his neck. Jaskier was glad for the arm around him, because he was beginning to feel faint, the evening warm, the wine making his head buzz, and the excitement of _something_ happening with Geralt making him absolutely dizzy with anticipation.

Dandelion distracted him with whiskered kisses on his neck and jaw, turning Jaskier’s face forward and holding his chin between his fingers. “Look at me,” he instructed, and Jaskier melted into him, lips brushing together and then tongues, Dandelion’s hands wandering up the back of his chemise.

“Come, let’s give them a show,” he said into Jaskier’s ear, and then led him by the hand into the house. The two Geralts padded behind them, silent, and Jaskier didn’t dare look back lest he break the spell of whatever magic this was.

Their bedroom was on the second floor, a huge four-poster bed in the middle, facing a giant window that showed the sun setting over the vineyard. It was breathtakingly beautiful and Jaskier failed to notice any of it as Dandelion latched onto his neck the moment they were inside. He sucked lightly, biting into his tender skin and then soothing it with his tongue, slowly peeling Jaskier out of his chemise and letting it drop to the floor.

Jaskier was just barely coherent enough to notice that both of the Geralts were seated in two overstuffed armchairs that made up a small sitting area off to the side. The arrangement held an excellent view of the large bed, and Jaskier felt his nerves ramp up even further now that they were in the actual bedroom and that much closer to doing this.

“Tell me anything you want,” Dandelion purred as he knelt down, helping Jaskier out of his boots and then staying there to run his hands up the sides of his trousers. “You can’t surprise me, after all.”

Jaskier laughed slightly at the absurdity of that statement, giving in to the temptation he’d had since he first saw Dandelion and letting his hands tangle in his beautiful hair. He suddenly wanted to see him laying back with it tousled around his head, face flushed with exertion, a lazy, sated smile on his face.

Dandelion stood again, taking Jaskier’s face in his hands and looking a bit more somber. “But if anything makes you uncomfortable at all, just say the word and I will stop, yes? I want only pleasure for you.”

Jaskier nodded. He tried to speak, but his voice felt dry. “Yes. I understand. Thank you.”

And then Dandelion looked at the younger Geralt, saying, “For you as well. If you want Jaskier or I to stop, say the word, and we can discuss. I do not want to take away from anything that you wish to share with your songbird.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt nervously, taking in his already wrecked appearance. He looked flushed all over, hair mussed from the wine and pupils dilated. “I will do whatever Jaskier wants.”

“And what do _you_ want, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, much more nervous to hear the answer to this question than to anything else that had transpired already.

“To please you,” he replied, voice ten times deeper than Jaskier had ever heard him.

Jaskier smiled almost shyly, his eyes sliding closed as he felt Dandelion standing behind him, facing him square to the two Geralts, wrapping his arms around his waist, and then sliding one hand lower, so it just tucked into the waistband of his trousers.

“Then we all want the same thing,” Dandelion murmured into his ear, taking his time unbuttoning each button. “To please you, Jaskier. Though I do confess that I will get some pleasure out of this as well.”

“Only _some_ pleasure, ‘lion?” the older Geralt said with a quirking smile as he looked over the two of them entwined in the middle of the room, his eyes dark with lust. Jaskier felt like he was melting, so achingly hard already, leaking into his underclothes and leaning back against Dandelion.

“Perhaps more than some,” Dandelion agreed lightheartedly. His fingers were clever and quick, sliding Jaskier’s trousers and small clothes down until they were slung around his hips and grasping Jaskier’s fully erect cock with confident hands. He gave it a gentle tug up and down, and they all watched the red cockhead peek through the foreskin, precome glistening at the tip. Jaskier let him work him over gently, glad for the light pressure as he didn’t want to come too soon; he wanted this to last forever.

“On the bed, if you please,” Dandelion instructed gently, helping Jaskier pull off his trousers the rest of the way and letting his chemise fall to the ground. Jaskier crawled onto the big bed, turning around with his breath catching his throat as he saw all three of them, backlit by the sun making it’s last rays sink away.

The older Geralt stood and lit some candles as Dandelion toed off his shoes and stripped off his vest, the two pausing to kiss lovingly for a moment, a gentle slide of tongues as Geralt held Dandelion’s neck lightly, the other tangling in his hair. It was a quiet, intimate moment, and Jaskier blinked away, seeking out Geralt and then looking down at the duvet, not wanting to intrude.

But then Dandelion was getting on the bed, crawling up towards him and kissing him sweetly, lips wet from Geralt’s tongue. That knowledge electrified Jaskier and he sat up, gathering Dandelion to him as Geralt had done, kissing with more fervor.

After a moment Dandelion pulled away, joining foreheads and whispering, “Do not be jealous, dear heart. You are meant to be with him.” Jaskier didn’t think it was quiet enough for either Geralt not to hear, and he burned with the meaning, not ready to hope yet.

They kissed again, Dandelion moving down Jaskier’s body slowly, taking his time, worshipping each freckle and curve, running his teeth over a nipple before sucking lightly and loosely circling his cock so Jaskier could thrust lazily into the circle of his fingers. Then he trailed down further, over the hair of his belly, lapping at the head of his cock while Jaskier let out a strangled groan.

“Yes,” Jaskier breathed out, looking up in amazement to see the older Geralt with his shirt and trousers open and a hand on his massive cock, stroking himself idly as he watched. Jaskier moaned as Dandelion took his cock in his mouth, sucking expertly, and spared a look at his own Geralt seated to the side. He looked rigid, hands dug into the armrests like claws, looking between Jaskier and where Dandelion was taking him in with pink, wet lips, and at the older version of himself.

Dandelion pressed an oiled finger up to his hole and Jaskier bit out an embarrassing gasp as he was breached, certain he wouldn’t last much longer. He wondered how many times he could come in one night, and idly thought that perhaps this was the ideal circumstances to try and break his current record.

Dandelion was good at this, _too_ good, his slim fingers searching around inside and then stroking against Jaskier’s prostate, making him gasp and stiffen, cock jerking in Dandelion’s mouth. He tangled his hands in Dandelion’s hair for a moment before arching back against the bed, feeling his orgasm welling up from the depths as Dandelion worked him expertly, and then he was coming with a gasp, supremely gratified to see Dandelion swallowing it down with little grunts of pleasure. He twitched out another few spurts and then threw his head back, breathing out like he’d just outrun a pack of wild wolves, body entirely sweaty and loose.

“You’re fucking fantastic at that,” Jaskier said with a laugh, throwing his hand over his face.

“It’s an artform I’ve perfected,” Dandelion said, sitting up on his knees and smoothing back his blonde hair. Jaskier looked down the length of his body at him, noticing that he was still wearing his hose tied up around his thighs with garters and nothing else. The stockings were a beautiful blue color that highlighted his eyes, the man looking absolutely stunning, and his very familiar cock hanging plump between his legs.

Jaskier flushed and then laughed at the incredulity of the situation. “I mean, I’ve always wondered what I was like in bed. But you’ve got some years of practice on me, so I’m not sure this is a fair comparison.”

After a moment he gathered the strength to pull himself up to sitting, reaching for Dandelion who came forward willingly, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. Jaskier tasted his come on his lips, the taste not unfamiliar to him. He shifted around so he was on his knees, pulling Dandelion close and feeling his cock press into his hip as they kissed. Jaskier pushed his hand between their bodies, stroking him, wanting to make it just as good for him as Dandelion had done.

“Would it be alright if I fucked you?” Dandelion said into his lips. “I would very much like to right now.” And he pressed his hips forward again, growling against Jaskier.

“Yes, please,” he breathed. They kissed a bit more, luxuriating in each other’s lips and bodies, Jaskier becoming slightly obsessed with Dandelion’s hair as he ran his fingers through the curls again, and then pulling away to smile at each other.

“I think our friends would like a good view of this,” Dandelion said, guiding Jaskier’s hands down to the bed and arranging his hips how he wanted him. Jaskier felt himself burning again, becoming aware of the two men’s gazes on them.

Dandelion’s garters were slipping and he shimmied out of his hose, kicking them off until he was completely naked, moving between Jaskier’s spread legs and soothing his hands down his sides.

Jaskier kept looking down, biting his lip as Dandelion’s finger breached him easily again, gliding in, a second soon joining it.

“Do you, ah—” Jaskier began, cutting off as Dandelion’s fingers moved in him. “Want me to—” He sighed as his fingers crooked inside. “I can—” A third finger joined the other two. “My mouth.”

“No, this is lovely,” Dandelion purred, pouring oil into his own hand, the sound of him stroking his own cock lurid in Jaskier’s ears. Then he lined up and waited for Jaskier to nod before pushing in slowly. It was the easiest Jaskier had ever taken a cock; Dandelion knew when to push and when to wait, what every hitch of breath meant, and how slowly he needed to be entered. And what did he expect, when he was fucking someone who was essentially himself? The slide was amazing, the head of Dandelion's cock catching his rim in that delicious way that made Jaskier moan, and soon he was sliding in and out of him expertly while Jaskier felt tears begin to well from near overstimulation.

“You alright?” Dandelion said, pausing to stroke his sides. Jaskier was fully hard again, almost painfully so, and he bit his lip and nodded.

“Keep going.”

Dandelion nodded and resumed his thrusting, picking up speed and angling upward so Jaskier was mewling at every deep thrust, finally gathering up enough courage to look up at the older Geralt who was straight ahead of him. He looked devastatingly gorgeous, lips bitten red, cock straining in his big hand as he watched both of them coupling. He smiled at him and Jaskier flushed again, imagining what an image they made together on the bed.

“Come, they want to see more,” Dandelion said hotly, pausing. Then he gathered Jaskier to him and pulled him up until he was on his knees, speared by his cock nearly all the way to his throat, and Jaskier felt full, so very full. They rocked together, hips flush, Jaskier crying out on each thrust as he felt the hot gaze of both witchers.

He finally turned to look at his Geralt and clenched down on Dandelion’s cock as he took in the wrecked image of him, still fully clothed, face flushed, his hand loosely over his trousers like he was trying to stop himself but just couldn’t control it.

“Geralt,” Jaskier gasped, trembling as Dandelion thrust into him at a punishing pace now. Jaskier was so sensitive, so overwrought that when he felt Dandelion cup his balls with one hand and then grab him for one long jerk with the other as he rutted into him, he trembled into his second orgasm of the evening. It felt so hot across his skin, Dandelion’s cock working into him relentlessly, both Geralts’ gazes on him almost too much for him to handle. He closed his eyes as he felt his body heaving forward, sticky come spilling over Dandelion’s hand and onto his thighs and the covers.

After a moment he heard the soft grunting of his Geralt, looking up in amazement to see bliss cross his features as he came in his pants, one hand still tightly gripping the armrest and the other pressed between his legs as he moved his hips in small, jerking motions.

Then Dandelion pressed him down into the mattress until his chest was touching it, ass still pulled up with an arch of his back. He grabbed Jaskier’s hair and pulled his head so he was looking at the older Geralt, Dandelion’s Geralt, and picked his thrusting back up.

“He wants a turn next,” Dandelion said. “We all want a turn on you. It’s because you look so good coming on a cock. Everyone wants to make you sob on it. But I’m the only one who gets to, now.”

And he pounded in hard once, twice more and then bottomed out with a moan, filling Jaskier up as he came in hot spurts. Jaskier was so loose that he lay there unresisting, jaw slackened and body pliant as he let Dandelion pump him full, his insides hot with his come.

It was a long moment that they lay there, Jaskier’s heartbeat slowly coming down as Dandelion made little dirty grinds into him and kissed his shoulders.

“You did so well,” he praised, like Dandelion hadn’t been the one doing all of the work. Jaskier warmed to it though, like Dandelion was the sun and he was a little wildflower, and he turned his head so they could kiss for a moment before he dropped his head down to the mattress.

Dandelion pulled out carefully and sank down next to him on the bed, and Jaskier groaned at the feeling of emptiness and the sensation of come slipping out of him lewdly. They were both covered with a sheen of sweat, their bodies slippery with come.

“You doing alright, darling?” Dandelion asked, laughing a little and carding his fingers through Jaskier’s hair, and Jaskier caught his breath and then laughed a little bit, too.

“There’s nothing quite like yourself to please… yourself.”

“I wouldn’t mind the other way around in a bit,” Dandelion teased with a waggle of his brows and Jaskier’s eyes lit up, the image vivid in his mind suddenly.

“Perhaps later,” the older Geralt’s voice cut in, gruff. The two looked over at him, body tight and cock still heavy in his hand, making Jaskier’s body throb as his cock tried to harden once more, unsuccessfully.

“You didn’t come, love?” Dandelion said, pushing his hair out of his face and wiping his brow.

“Waiting for you,” Geralt replied, squeezing the base of his cock.

Jaskier raised his eyebrows and averted his eyes, again feeling like he was privy to such an intimate moment between long-standing lovers.

Dandelion turned and took Jaskier’s face into both of his hands, drawing him into a deep, lingering kiss. “Thank you,” he said simply, and Jaskier smiled back sunnily. Then he got up from the bed and walked over to where his Geralt was sitting, climbing up into his lap and straddling the big man, giving them both a fantastic view of his ass. The two kissed, tongues twining before breaking apart when Jaskier got up and searched for his trousers.

He was still a bit tipsy, his face warm as he realized he’d now have to have some type of conversation with his Geralt about all of this, but perhaps that could wait until the morning when they were more sober.

“Stay,” the older Geralt said, and Jaskier looked at his Geralt for some direction, torn. On one hand, the two were a beautiful couple, but on the other, perhaps they wanted a bit of privacy.

“It’s alright,” the younger Geralt said, haltingly. “I have things I want to talk to Jaskier about.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows climbed to his hair, his heart immediately picking up again. He pulled up his trousers and looked around for his boots and chemise, finding them thrown next to the bed and putting them on quickly.

“There is all summer for dalliances,” Dandelion said agreeably, giggling as Geralt squeezed his ass and then gave him a playful slap.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Jaskier said to both of them, overly formal, feeling both aroused and shy.

“I thoroughly enjoyed the show of my lover and his counterpart giving each other such pleasure,” the older Geralt said. “And as Dandelion said, there is much time for other pleasures. It would be a joy for the both of you to join our bed at another time.”

Jaskier nearly choked a little, his mind reeling at all of the possibilities, and he decided he liked all of them. He smiled and bowed a little, saying a soft “goodnight” and feeling the large presence of Geralt behind him as they left the room and closed the door, leaving the other two to what was some assuredly vigorous lovemaking.

They walked silently down the stairs and out onto the patio, the evening stars out in full force, and a nearly full moon hanging overhead. It was warm out, Jaskier’s body still sweaty and sticky, his lips stinging with Dandelion’s kisses, his skin still tickled by his beard. But all he could think about was Geralt’s warm presence next to him, and his heart practically stopped when Geralt’s hand brushed his and then brushed it again before turning to catch it and hold on. They walked the few steps more until they were outside their little bungalow, and then Jaskier turned around and Geralt was _right there_ in his space, warm and huge, eyes unreadable in the darkness.

“Geralt—” Jaskier began, but then was cut off by Geralt’s lips on him, soft and warm. Jaskier absolutely melted into him, feeling his knees practically buckle as all of the overwhelming sensations of the evening came to a head and he could hardly believe this was happening.

“That was… amazing,” Geralt said into his lips. “I wanted it… to be me.” His hands tightened on Jaskier, one moving down to wrap around Jaskier’s waist and pull him in close. They kissed for a long while, just kissed, and Jaskier broke away, laughing again.

“It could’ve been you,” he whispered. “It could’ve been you for a long while.”

Geralt looked nearly pained at his words, and Jaskier reached a hand up to smooth away the worry between his brows. “I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered back. “I didn’t dare to hope.”

Jaskier surged forward and kissed him again with renewed vigor, his hands tangling in Geralt’s hair like he had always wanted to do. He kissed and kissed him, and then dropped away, falling back against the side of their house with a tired grin.

“Come, it’s late and it’s been a long evening. We should sleep.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows.

“Actually sleep,” Jaskier said, but was so incredibly excited that it could be something more so soon. He grabbed Geralt by the hand again and led him into the room.

He let Geralt help him out of his clothes, the alcohol finally catching up to him and making his limbs feel like lead. He tried to help Geralt but he batted him away, peeling off his trousers that were assuredly a mess— so hot, Jaskier’s tired mind supplied — and then crawled under the covers with him. Jaskier took a deep breath and scooched closer, more than he’d ever dared do with Geralt before, though they’d shared hundreds of beds in their travels together.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” Jaskier murmured, purring as Geralt put an arm around him and pulled him that last little bit closer.

“Goodnight, Jaskier,” he said back, and Jaskier struggled to keep his eyes open to remember this moment, but he was just too tired to do so.

***

When Jaskier woke he had that pleasantly sore feeling everywhere and he stretched languidly, only then realizing that he was alone in the bed. He tried not to let his stomach swoop in anxiety, but it did anyways as he looked at where Geralt had been lying that was now empty. He glanced around the room, half-lit from the sunlight seeping in from the sides of the shutters, and saw Geralt’s swords propped up on the chair by the table, but his boots were gone, so he couldn’t have actually gone far.

Jaskier sighed, pushing his hair off his forehead and falling back on his pillow. Leave it to Geralt to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Well, he’d kind of been hoping to be cuddled awake, or maybe something more lewd, but the previous evening’s events had certainly been a step in the right direction for the both of them.

He lay in bed until his thoughts caught up to him, and then he stood to dress, deciding he might seek out a bath. It was already late-morning and Jaskier was able to track down a maid easily enough. He sat down to have a solitary breakfast as he waited for the water to be heated and brought down from the big house, surveying the scenery and replaying what had happened last night.

When the bath was ready he stepped in, thighs twinging, smiling a little smile as he thought of Dandelion between them, and how incredibly _capable_ he’d been. The water felt wonderful, the cloth over his sore muscles a pleasant reminder of the previous evening's strenuous activities, and he ran his fingers over his lips as he relived both Dandelion’s and Geralt’s soft kisses.

When he was finished, he asked the maid if she could let Geralt know— wherever he was— that there was water waiting if he’d like to make use of it. Jaskier picked up his lute and decided to head up to the big house to see if he was there, but instead ran into the older Geralt, seated on the same couch where they’d first met.

Geralt smiled warmly and gestured to the chair opposite, saying, “Join me, please.”

Jaskier returned the smile, pinking only slightly as he remembered the way the witcher had been staring at him heatedly as he was being speared on Dandelion’s cock on their bed.

“How are you this morning?” Jaskier asked, sitting down and trying to make his blush retreat unsuccessfully.

“Mmmm, well. And you?” The older Geralt was handsome as ever, and Jaskier stared at his beard only a little, wondering what it felt like.

“Quite well, thank you,” Jaskier said with a cheeky smile, grateful witchers couldn’t read minds.

“It’s more like lunch time, really. Did you sleep in a bit?” Geralt said, his voice the familiar warm rumble that Jaskier was accustomed to. The thought was comforting. “Dandelion’s always late to rise, particularly when he’s recovering from a busy evening.”

Jaskier laughed at his hinted meaning, his blush renewed. “Yes, I’m like that as well, though I’ve never been one for mornings, really. Geralt normally has to physically shake me awake if he wants to leave before sun up.”

“It’s strange, you remind me so much of him, but the differences are subtle. Apart from the hairstyle.”

Jaskier nodded, thinking he could say the same of the two Geralts. But he was curious, and now that he had this Geralt alone… “How did you two… get together? With Geralt and I, it’s always been… difficult. He’s hard to read, never says what he’s actually thinking, always trying to be noble or think he’s undeserving, but he’s… very deserving.” Jaskier looked down at his hands, that little niggle of doubt creeping back in his brain. The thought that maybe _Jaskier_ didn’t deserve Geralt. Maybe Geralt would never say he loved him back. Maybe this was not going to end like Geralt and Dandelion at Corvo Bianco at the end of their time on the Path.

“I don’t know how the small differences in our worlds have manifested, but I was similar when I was younger. I never let anyone in. Dandelion was always so tender with me, and we were friends, traveling companions, but it was always easy to love him, as a friend first and then as a lover. We counted on each other as you and he do, would die for each other one million times over. I’m sure you feel the same. Dandelion was the one to make the first move, however. So it may be you who will need to summon the courage.”

“What will he say?” Jaskier asked, feeling so small, nerves jangling through him.

“I spoke with him earlier today. I do not believe your fears are founded, but you two will need to discover that for yourselves.”

“But—” Jaskier began.

“Dandelion warned me about saying too much, earlier, and he was right. You will find your way, together.”

Jaskier drew his brows together, not as convinced, but slightly more hopeful than he had been upon waking up alone.

Geralt changed the subject to more mundane things and Jaskier let him, trying to tune out the worry of his brain. Jaskier realized some time must have passed as his stomach gurgled, and Dandelion fortuitously appeared with a maid and some plates heaped with meats and cheeses and other charcuterie. He smiled at Jaskier and kissed Geralt on the cheek before setting down his plate at the table and feeding him an olive.

“No younger Geralt?” Dandelion asked.

“Haven’t seen him yet today,” Jaskier replied breezily.

Geralt and Dandelion communicated through their eyebrows, ending with Dandelion grabbing a few pieces of cheese and then excusing himself with a bow. He returned five minutes later, pulling Geralt on the arm and saying, “I need to speak with you, please. So sorry, Jaskier. Please excuse us.” And then the two left Jaskier alone on the porch with just the food and his thoughts.

Jaskier half thought that Dandelion had left to bully the younger Geralt into coming over to speak with him, but he did not appear, so he ate and bided his time, finally getting out his lute and giving it a few strums as he hummed along with it.

He finally remembered the chords to the song he’d begun from the last time he was here, not really remembering the words, but the shape of the melody came back to him. He hummed along, remembering the summer breeze and how he’d stood at the olive trees just over there and looked at the vibrant sunset, thinking of Geralt even then, always thinking of Geralt, but he of course wasn’t there. Jaskier sighed and set his lute down, deciding he was done waiting for the time being, and maybe he could see if he could be of some use cleaning up somewhere.

He was, however, shooed away from the kitchens by a scullery maid and did a bit of lurking about the house, very interested to see what his and Geralt’s future lives would be like but a bit leery of learning something he was not supposed to. When he stumbled into a solarium at the back of the house with a plethora of musical instruments, oodles of loose paper with Dandelion’s scrawl on them, and a finely bound songbook on a desk, Jaskier took one moment to truly wonder what was inside and wished desperately to leaf through the papers before firmly backing away. As much as he would’ve liked to see what his future self’s adventures were, he didn’t want to alter his or Geralt’s path to this moment. He backed away, instead finding a library and liberating a fictional book that didn’t have any risk of spoiling future history for him, and decided to perhaps check out the elven ruins that everyone had been talking about, or maybe find somewhere cozy and just make an afternoon out of reading.

The ruins were only a few minutes walk, facing the coast, the hot air shimmering a faintly blue color as Jaskier walked along the crumbling stones and tasted the salt in the air. Most of the structure was buried with only a few ivy-covered pillars remaining, but it must’ve been an impressive sight when it was in its full glory. It was still a beautiful view, the house behind him and the vastness of the sea in front, and he sat down beneath the shade of a tree amongst the lovely scenery and cracked open his book. It was warm, though, the buzz of honeybees and the whisper of the far away waves making his eyes heavy as he read and soon lulled him off to sleep, and before he knew it he was waking with a little snort and picking his book up off his chest in surprise.

Jaskier dusted himself off, stretched, and headed back to their little house, thinking that the time for dinner was near or had perhaps passed, based on the slowly sinking sun. He ended up stopping at the stable to delay the inevitable return to an empty room and a solo dinner, patting Roach, who seemed not too thrilled to see him. It wasn’t as if she could tell him where Geralt was either, but it was a bit like being with him anyways. At least she was allowing him to brush her now, and he braided a lock or two of her mane, laughing as he thought about how Geralt hated that. When he finally, _finally_ thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, he headed down the path through the courtyard back to their house, thinking maybe he would finish the evening out trying his book again with a few scrounged leftovers, and stopping short when he saw the younger Geralt, _his_ Geralt, standing in the middle of the courtyard.

The sun was behind him, a glimmer of blue from the ruins reflecting off the fields, and he looked effortlessly handsome, as usual. Jaskier sighed, though, trying not to be swayed. He was still irritated at being left alone for the entire day, stewing in his own thoughts, which he hated doing. It was probably why he talked so much, so he wouldn’t have to think.

“Hello Jaskier,” Geralt said haltingly. He smiled tentatively, and Jaskier noticed he was holding two wine glasses.

“Where’ve you been all day?” Jaskier said, his tone a little more curt than he’d been intending.

Geralt’s face fell slightly, his body growing more tense than usual, and Jaskier immediately softened, though he said nothing, letting Geralt have time before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been thinking.” And then he swallowed. “Would you mind coming with me? I’ve set up dinner and then we can… talk.” He gestured with the wine glasses to somewhere off to the side, and Jaskier nodded immediately. Geralt led the way down the path and then past their little house, surprising Jaskier. The path continued into the vineyard, and Geralt took a few turns until they were deep among the rows and only able to see the tops of the houses above the lines of vegetation.

They rounded a corner and Jaskier blinked in surprise as he saw a blanket set out on the ground, a wicker basket with a cloth covering the contents, and two wine bottles.

“What’s this?” he said, heart suddenly going a mile a minute.

“Will you sit with me?” Geralt said, setting down the wine glasses and then offering Jaskier his hand. He looked down at it, blinking, and then back up at Geralt, who looked nervous but determined, and Jaskier felt a thrill in his stomach and a huge smile creep across his face. He grasped hands with Geralt and allowed him to help him sit down, Geralt following him and sitting a respectable distance away, both of them facing the very last rays of the sun as they faded away into the blueness of the early night. The moon was high above them, too, nearly full, and casting a warmth over the branches and Geralt’s handsome face.

Geralt filled their wine glasses and spread out their food in a lovely picnic, and they were silent for several long minutes as they ate. It was nice, lovely really, and Jaskier was itching to say something— anything, but he knew Geralt would speak when he was ready. Little bugs chirped nearby in the grass, their quiet singing and the whisper of the wind through the vines the only sounds for a long time.

“I talked to the other Geralt,” he finally said, still looking at the horizon at where the sun was now almost completely gone.

“I know. He told me that earlier.” Gerlt turned and looked at Jaskier, his expression inscrutable, even to Jaskier.

“I just needed to think through some things, and I’m sorry I left you there alone this morning after… last night.”

He paused and Jaskier bit his tongue, letting Geralt gather his thoughts.

“I think… I think I’ve always been afraid. Afraid to ask someone for something. Afraid to need someone. I’ve been alone for so long.”

Jaskier nodded, but frowned. “But you haven’t been alone. You’ve had me.”

“Yes,” Geralt agreed. “But not how I’ve needed to have you. Not how I’ve _wanted_ to have you.” He turned, his hand reaching to grasp Jaskier’s again, and it was warm and sweaty, and shaking just a little.

“Jaskier…” he began.

Jaskier brought their joined hands up to his cheek, rubbing against them and then turning to kiss Geralt’s knuckles. “Geralt, you’ve always had me. You’ve always had me.” Jaskier brought his other hand up to cup Geralt’s jaw, guiding his face up a little so his amber eyes were meeting Jaskier’s again. “You’re my partner, my friend, the one I trust, the one I would do anything for.”

“Friend?” Geralt asked, eyes flicking down again.

“Yes, but—” Jaskier licked his lips. “But so much more. Of course I want that with you, Geralt. I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“You have?”

“Yes, that first time in Posada, gods, I thought you were so godsdamned attractive, but I was only _eighteen_ and you… were a bit… standoffish. For quite a while, really.”

Geralt huffed but let Jaskier pull him a little closer, his hand still on Geralt’s jaw and moving back to run through his hair.

“I didn’t want to let anyone in. I couldn’t.” And then he closed his eyes, like he couldn’t bear to say what he was about to say with Jaskier looking at him. “But now… Now I want to.”

And then he opened his eyes like he was afraid of what he was going to see, but Jaskier was smiling brilliantly, because Geralt, Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, _his_ Geralt, had just said he wanted him, wanted to let him in, wanted to _be_ with him.

“May I kiss you?” Jaskier whispered, and Geralt nodded and whispered back, “Yes.”

They both leaned forward, Jaskier’s heart nearly bursting from his chest in joy as Geralt closed his eyes, and then they were kissing, soft and warm and wonderful. And it was technically their second kiss, but this time, _this time_ , it was for keeps.

Jaskier let his hands slide everywhere on Geralt, everywhere he’d dreamed of but hadn’t been allowed to before— his hair, his arms, his ribs and stomach, his thighs. He was so thick, so warm, the summer heat making them both a bit sweaty. He rucked up Geralt’s shirt, feeling the muscles of his back and then making a surprised noise when Geralt suddenly tightened his hold on him and pulled him into his lap. Jaskier went easily, legs spreading to bracket Geralt’s trim waist, and then absolutely moaning at the first press of Geralt’s cock to his own.

He surged into Geralt again, pressing his lips to his and kissing more desperately now, _years_ of yearning suddenly igniting under his skin and making him struggle to pull off Geralt’s shirt while still staying attached at the lips. They broke apart so Jaskier could pull it over Geralt’s head, and Jaskier smoothed down Geralt's hair and then curled it around his ear while Jaskier smiled at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said fondly, and Geralt blushed, actually blushed and buried his face in Jaskier’s neck, breathing in deeply, scenting him.

He hummed into Jaskier’s skin, but it wasn’t an outright rebuttal so Jaskier considered that a success. They kissed some more, enjoying the exploration of hands on skin— skin that Jaskier had seen and touched and massaged and helped repair, but never touched like this. Not like this at _all_.

And then Geralt shifted them, turned them over and laid them back on the blanket, and Jaskier had to hold on tight to him so he wouldn’t just float away because it was all too much, the moon and the kisses and _Geralt_. He could feel himself starting to get emotional and he bit down on his lip, not wanting to scare Geralt, not wanting to give too much too soon. But Geralt looked down at him with his amber eyes warm, his expression adoring.

“Jaskier,” he said quietly, and it meant a million things all at once, and Jaskier understood them all without any further words, emotion filling him. Geralt leaned down to kiss him, more fervent now before breaking off to trail wet kisses down Jaskier’s pale throat and chest. He sucked on a nipple, worrying it gently between his teeth as his hands worked off Jaskier’s trousers, and then he was bare to the night and to Geralt.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said with a little quirking smile, and Jaskier had to laugh before Geralt silenced him with a swirled tongue around the head of his cock. Jaskier gasped out and bucked up into his warm mouth, the knowledge that it was _Geralt_ doing this making everything ten times more magnified. He fisted into the blanket as Geralt worked his mouth down on him, wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft, the other cupping his balls. And then Jaskier realized he could touch, he could touch all he wanted, and he buried his hands in Geralt’s silver hair, starting to feel like he was heading close to a powerful orgasm and not wanting to end it so soon.

He pulled on Geralt’s ears lightly, looking at his confused puppy-dog expression, and panting to get out a sentence. “Wait, I want you inside of me, please. When I come. The first time.”

Geralt heaved himself back upward, kissing Jaskier quickly and then shimmying out of his black trousers and kicking them to the side.

“Did you bring oil?” Jaskier asked, and the deeper blush on Geralt’s face made Jaskier smile. “Of course you did.”

Geralt ducked his head but produced a bottle from somewhere. “I didn’t know if… But I was hopeful.”

Jaskier laughed and then smiled kindly, putting his hand on Geralt’s cheek and gently stroking it until Geralt’s eyes met his. “I don’t want you to have any questions or doubt my affections any more, Geralt. I will say it now and say it a million times to anyone who will listen to me shout it, I am yours, Geralt. Always yours.”

Geralt smiled back, a small, beautiful thing, and Jaskier thought he’d never seen him look more radiant. It was so rare that Geralt looked truly happy, and Jaskier drew him in for a lingering kiss before lying back and spreading his legs enticingly.

“Alright, enough schmoopy stuff, get in me now, please,” Jaskier said with a playful laugh. Geralt got down to business, slicking two fingers up— ooh, two right away— and then sliding them right in. Jaskier took them easily, groaning as Geralt gave him a nice, slow jerk of his cock as he did. The third was a bit of a stretch, Geralt’s fingers large, but he did his best to relax into it, eager to get going.

“Ready?” Geralt asked when Jaskier was stretched and panting on them, a fine sheen of sweat now over his lip and chest. He nodded fervently, grabbing onto Geralt like he was a lifeline when he moved back up his body, kissing him deeply as he felt the blunt head of his cock press up against him. Geralt put one hand behind a knee and pushed him forward, sliding in just a little bit, and Jaskier gasped against Geralt’s lips and turned his head away, making little hitching moans as he started to sink in deeper and deeper.

“Gods. So good,” he bit out inbetween tiny thrusts as Geralt worked his way inward. He was big, the fit deliciously tight, and then he was pressed all the way into him, his bulk a welcome weight on Jaskier’s body.

“Good?” Geralt grunted, giving a little snap of his hips, and Jaskier nodded, grabbing onto Geralt’s big shoulders and moving his hips against his.

“Yeah. Please.” He bucked up, urging Geralt to move, and he did finally, long slow thrusts that felt so, so good. His cock was gorgeous, filling him up perfectly, each thrust smooth and deep, and Jaskier could already feel his orgasm building up as his cock was rubbed between their bellies.

“Geralt, I’m not—” Jaskier said, cutting off as Geralt suddenly snapped his hips quicker. “Not going to last long.”

“It’s okay,” Geralt said, voice sounding a bit wrecked as well. “We can do this again.”

Jaskier smiled brilliantly. They could do this a million times if he wanted. They could do this every night, two times if they wanted. Three times!

“Good point,” he huffed. He wrapped his legs around Geralt’s hips, taking him deeper, and Geralt started to really fuck in hard now, his rhythm picking up quicker.

The blanket was soft beneath him, Jaskier’s skin prickling with heat, Geralt a furnace above him and his hair falling into Jaskier’s face. He brushed it to the side, putting it behind Geralt’s ear again and then pulling him down for a sloppy kiss. Geralt reached between their bodies to grasp Jaskier’s aching cock, and it was only a few quick strokes before he was crying out against Geralt’s lips, his body tightening as he came over their stomachs and Geralt’s fist. He closed his eyes tightly, the waves of pleasure so intense, so lovely, every pleasant thought that he’d ever had about Geralt flashing through his brain.

His squeezing body apparently was enough to tip Geralt over the edge too, and he let go of Jaskier’s cock and grasped his hips hard, thrusting in a few more times and then coming with a groan, filling him up with hot come as he gasped above him. Jaskier struggled to open his eyes, wanting to see it on Geralt’s face, and he looked lovely as ever, nose scrunched up and lips parted.

 _So fucking beautiful_ , he thought but didn’t say, and Geralt shuddered a few more times and then opened his eyes, and the look on his face was one of wonder. Jaskier yanked him down into another kiss, Geralt heavy on him now, their limbs loose with the lassitude of orgasm. They rolled over to their sides after a moment, Geralt slipping out as they did, and Jaskier moaned softly as he was emptied, feeling Geralt’s come dripping out and absolutely loving it.

They were quiet for a while, waiting for their breathing to return to normal, the coolness of the night cooling their sweat and the come that neither bothered to wipe off so as to not break the spell. Jaskier painted lines with his fingertips on Geralt’s skin, up his wrist and forearm, over his bicep, across his chest, along his lips. He could feel the words bubbling up, his chest feeling funny, his eyes getting just a little bit wet as he focused on Geralt’s lips and not his eyes.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered as he smoothed back Geralt’s hair and pulled his hand forward so he could press kisses to his knuckles. He didn’t expect Geralt to say it back, in fact, he thought he might never, and he’d be okay with that, because he already showed it in so many ways.

But then, _then_ , Geralt whispered it back, just those three words, just them and the vineyard and the moon and “I love you,” and Jaskier started to cry.

Geralt held him in his arms, kissed his forehead, wiped away his tears, and they stayed there until it got too cool for them to be unclothed, and they returned to their little house at the top of the hill, in the middle of the vineyard, with their fireplace and one bed for just the two of them. And this time it was perfect.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The porny epilogue! 5k of four-way sex between Geralt/Jaskier/older!Geralt/Dandelion. With a tiny bit of loving shmoop.

“Lie back,” Dandelion said, gently pushing on Geralt’s chest until he was laying down mostly flat, head on a fluffy pillow. “Relax.” 

The young witcher licked his lips, looking between Dandelion and Jaskier who were both fully clothed and kneeling in front of him, and then at the older Geralt who was sitting cross-legged just a bit to the side. The bed was huge (how much money did Dandelion and Geralt _have_?), with definitely enough to fit the four of them, and perhaps room for one or two more. Sex with Jaskier these last few weeks had been _amazing_ , not to mention the fact that it ended with ‘I love you’ and spooning more often than not, but to have _two_ Jaskiers (well, Jaskier and Dandelion) servicing him was practically heart-attack inducing.

It hadn’t taken much arm twisting for himself and Jaskier to be back here again— a quick talk between themselves after dinner (“Are you sure?” “I absolutely want to ravish you with my older alternate universe self, yes.” “Okay then.”)— and they were quickly finishing their wine and brushing hands as they walked up the stairs. 

“I’m relaxed,” Geralt said gruffly, and the irony was not lost on him. He stripped off his own shirt, wanting that little bit of control at least, and then Jaskier was next to him, stroking his hair and then kissing him gently. Geralt leaned into his lips, pleased that this was familiar to him now, letting just a bit of tongue slip in. And then Jaskier broke away and knelt back, looking over to Dandelion who had moved up closer and was looking at Geralt fondly.

Dandelion leaned forward a bit more, his fingers tangling in Geralt’s hair too, eyes searching his face. Geralt knew that Dandelion loved the older version of him, and that it was a fierce love, undying and deeply powerful. But he also knew he wasn’t that Geralt. He didn’t exactly want to be the object of Dandelion’s undying love, but he wanted to someday be the same man that maybe Jaskier would want to… to commit himself to as well.

As if sensing his thoughts, Dandelion smiled kindly. “Try not to worry about what has or has not happened yet. Let us take care of you tonight.” He traced along Geralt’s shoulder and collarbone, making him shiver. Jaskier mirrored him, and Geralt looked between the two of them, his slow heart beating faster as his hands curled in the sheets.

“I’d love to see if I can make you cry out in pleasure as I can do with my Geralt,” Dandelion said as his smile turned a little wicked. “Would you like that, darling?” he asked as he flicked one of his nipples lightly.

Geralt hissed out a breath, his head falling back on the pillow. “Yes.”

Dandelion smiled again and bent down, licking lightly at Geralt’s neck before dragging his tongue downward over his pec and latching on to his nipple. At the same time, Jaskier attached himself to Geralt’s neck, sucking a bruise into the tender flesh, and the two of them combined made Geralt close his eyes and rumble softly in pleasure.

“He likes it when you use a little teeth,” Jaskier said to Dandelion after a minute or two, and Geralt’s breath immediately hitched as Dandelion followed his suggestion. Geralt heard Jaskier gurgle next to him as they both watched Dandelion’s blonde head, Geralt’s cock getting that much harder as Dandelion's magic tongue swirled again. He looked up at Jaskier’s little groan, the bard’s cheeks splashed pink as he turned to look at the older Geralt who was across from both of them. “Do _you_ like that too?”

The older Geralt smiled and nodded, the front of his tight trousers tented with obvious arousal. “Perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?”

Jaskier gave Geralt a deep kiss before shifting around him and Dandelion and hesitating only a moment before crawling eagerly into the older witcher’s lap and straddling him, legs bracketed wide. Geralt watched as Jaskier reached up to pet the older Geralt’s silver beard before he grabbed Jaskier’s hands and wrapped them around his neck and then drew him closer to kiss him deeply. 

Hmm, perhaps Geralt would consider growing a beard as Jaskier seemed to like it so much. He seemed to like it, _a lot_. Jaskier was nothing if not enthusiastic, and Geralt was not surprised how much the bard liked _all_ versions of himself. He was distracted from watching the two of them kissing and groping by Dandelion’s tongue traveling further down his stomach, Dandelion working off his trousers and mouthing at the cut of muscle along his abdomen. Geralt was ticklish there sometimes, but Dandelion knew how to smooth down his side with one hand, how to keep enough pressure, how to bite along his skin.

“He _does_ like teeth,” Dandelion said with a nip to Geralt’s hip, one hand moving to stroke Geralt’s cock languidly, making his hips buck up with the unexpected pleasure. He leaned closer, tongue darting out to lick at the head, tasting his precome, and Geralt jerked in his hand.

“No teeth there, though,” Geralt grumbled, and Dandelion laughed, giving him a long swipe of his tongue up the entire shaft and then a little kiss to the tip.

“Of course not, darling. I’m quite good at this. Don’t worry.”

Both Jaskier and the older Geralt grunted out their agreement, and the younger Geralt bit out a laugh which abruptly turned into a choked off moan as Dandelion wrapped his mouth around him and pushed a finger between his legs at the same time, pressing just the tip of one into him, just a little. He flicked his tongue a bit, just a tease, before pulling off and letting Geralt’s cock drop down to his stomach with a dull little thwap.

“I would very much like to turn you over and get my tongue inside of you and then fuck you, if that would be alright,” Dandelion purred, and Geralt looked over at Jaskier first, taking in his flushed cheeks and red lips and soft smile, and then back at Dandelion who was still fully clothed and immaculate looking save for the shiny red lips and slightly mussed hair.

Geralt nodded yes, not feeling like he could trust his voice or whatever words he might manage to get out at the moment. Dandelion pulled Geralt’s trousers off the rest of the way and then pulled off his own vest and ruffled shirt, dropping it in the pile of clothes next to the bed. 

Geralt gathered his wits about him and sat up, running his hands down Dandelion’s sides and hooking his fingers into Dandelion’s trousers to ease them down a ways. As more and more skin was exposed, Geralt saw that he was lean and sun-kissed everywhere, something he hadn’t noticed last time; perhaps he sunbathed on the deck in the nude when no one was around. The thought was exciting to Geralt.

As they both worked to unbutton the line of tiny buttons, the older Geralt laughed softly next to them. “Why must you wear so many clothes, ‘lion?”

But Dandelion only smiled back for a moment before lifting his hips and allowing Geralt to slide them off, Geralt’s hands returning soft and reverent on the outside of Dandelion’s thighs. “More fun to take off, I suppose.”

Geralt hmmed agreeably, reaching for Dandelion’s hose pinned up on his calves by garters but was shooed away and pressed back down to the bed again. 

“I’m taking care of you, remember?” 

Geralt wanted to protest, but he enjoyed the show of Dandelion removing the last of his clothing, his pulse rising as the naked poet climbed back up his body and nuzzled at his very hard cock, licking him once more.

Then Geralt let Dandelion guide his hips over until he was rolling onto his stomach, his dick now trapped in the soft sheets. He pushed down experimentally and it felt nice, but not nearly as nice as when combined with Dandelion’s lips on his shoulders and Dandelion’s naked cock dragging along the curve of his ass, trailing wet precome and making his skin tingle.

There was a bit of shuffling and some whispering of clothes, and Geralt turned his head to the other pair, a bolt of arousal shooting through him as he saw that Jaskier was now turned around on the older Geralt’s lap and was facing him with legs spread wide. His trousers were open, and the other’s large hand stroked upward on Jaskier's cock as both he and Jaskier watched.

“Go on, show him what you’re good at,” the older Geralt said to Dandelion, and Dandelion grinned, moving down Geralt’s body with light kisses before kneeling between his legs and spreading his cheeks. Geralt burned to have so many eyes on him, and he closed his own eyes tightly, incredibly pleased to feel Jaskier tangle their fingers together right as Dandelion licked at him with a pointed tongue.

Dandelion let go with one hand to pull Geralt up a bit to give himself a better angle, and then he was licking against him, long stripes up, and then working his tongue inside as deep as he could and making Geralt mewl and grasp Jaskier’s fingers harder. Geralt could smell Jaskier’s lust spiking, could hear the other Geralt’s hand work him over, as Dandelion’s talented tongue delved deeper and deeper. His beard was soft against his skin and Geralt shuddered, feeling like it was almost too much. Almost. But it wasn’t— mostly it was just good, wonderful, amazing.

“Do you like my ‘lion’s tongue?” the older Geralt husked, and Geralt could only whine into the sheets and spread his legs further, pushing his hips back into Dandelion’s mouth.

Dandelion squeezed Geralt’s ass as he worked, pulling his hand over deliberately slowly and giving Geralt’s balls a soft squeeze before trailing up and against his tightened hole again. He removed his tongue and replaced it with an oiled finger, sliding in the first easily, and taking his time with the second. Geralt trembled beneath him, already feeling wrecked, his cock drooling down on the sheets. Then Dandelion twitched his fingers in him and pushed on his hip.

“This way, love,” he said, and Geralt moved on the bed obediently, face heating up as he was now looking directly at Jaskier’s pink cock being stroked in the other Geralt’s lap.

One of the older witcher’s hands and one of Jaskier’s reached to stroke Geralt’s hair, and Geralt turned his head to kiss Jaskier’s wrist while Dandelion returned to his efforts of licking Geralt’s tender hole around his fingers, this time working his two fingers in and out in a light thrusting motion. 

“Do you want to be a good puppy for us?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt felt himself get even harder at the pet name.

He nodded quickly, accepting Jaskier’s fingers in his mouth and sucking on them eagerly. He let himself be led closer to Jaskier, Jaskier’s fingers slipping out of his mouth and guiding him down so he was taking Jaskier’s cock, sucking on the tip. Dandelion chose that moment to rub against his prostate firmly, and Geralt jerked forward, taking more of Jaskier in with a grunt.

He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, feeling full on both ends, Dandelion’s fingers now expertly massaging him and his other hand reaching under his belly to grab his cock and stroke him roughly. The stimulation was so much, too much, bringing him so close to the edge.

“You’re so gods damn beautiful with my cock in your mouth,” Jaskier gasped above him and Geralt did his best to take him in further, his groans obviously muffled as Dandelion crooked his finger in just the right way and gave him a firm squeeze, and then he was coming, his body hot, clenching down on Dandelion’s fingers and making a mess of the sheets.

When he’d finished trembling, Dandelion carefully pulled out his fingers and replaced them with the blunt head of his cock, and Geralt keened, Jaskier still filling his mouth.

“Ready for me?” Dandelion asked, his hands on Geralt’s hips. He waited for Geralt to huff an affirmative before sliding in, Geralt’s body so lax from his orgasm that it hardly had any resistance. He was slow about it, though, attentive, making sure Geralt didn’t tense up, and the slide against his poor prostate made his nerve endings light up.

Geralt was barely softening before feeling his body strain to fill again. He’d tested his witcher stamina to the extremes before, but never quite in this capacity.

“Such a lovely, tight ass,” Dandelion praised, and Geralt felt his cheeks burn again. He dipped down as low as he could on Jaskier, feeling his chin bump the other Geralt’s hand where it was wrapped around the base of him. He shifted on his hands, arching his back and Dandelion took that as an invitation to start thrusting into him, the flared head rubbing against him with each stroke. As he worked up to deeper and harder strokes, he was rocking Geralt into Jaskier more and more, making Geralt feel Jaskier’s cock nudging against his throat.

“Gods, Geralt,” Jaskier moaned. “Yeah, just keep... Keep doing that. With your tongue. Yes.”

Geralt tried to do what Jaskier asked, running his tongue along the underside of his cock, but he didn’t have a lot of finesse left in him, not when he was being steadily pounded and his heart racing.

“I should just keep you here always,” Dandelion was now saying, cutting through Geralt’s haze. “Tied to my bed. So we can fuck you any time we want. First me. Then Jaskier. Then Geralt.”

Geralt mewled between them, feeling the drool making Jaskier’s lap and his own chin a mess.

“Do you think two of us could fit in at once?” Dandelion’s voice was like silk, and Geralt was full, just so _full_ of them both, spitted between them, his body aching pleasantly.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? My Geralt is so pretty when he’s begging to be filled.”

Geralt burned because he did love it, because he almost wished he could beg for it, but Jaskier’s cock in his mouth was good, too. Perfect, really.

“Fuck,” Jaskier bit out, hands tightening in Geralt’s hair. Geralt looked up to see the other Geralt sucking on Jaskier’s neck, and could feel Jaskier’s cock flexing in his mouth. Then Jaskier thrust his hips, losing a bit of control, and Geralt took it, loving the feel of Jaskier spilling down his throat. He did his best to swallow it down while Jaskier swore above him, Dandelion’s strokes still merciless.

Geralt let Jaskier’s slip from his mouth and he butted his head against Jaskier’s sweaty hip.

“That was so good, Geralt, thank you,” Jaskier said as he carded his hands through Geralt’s messy hair. Geralt was beyond response, though, overstimulated, just rocking forward with each heavy thrust. He could hear Jaskier and the older Geralt kiss briefly above him and could feel Dandelion’s thrusting stutter; he was close.

Geralt clenched down, hearing Dandelion swear quietly and then felt him hold his hips still.

“Come for me, ‘lion? For us?” came the older Geralt’s gravelly voice, and it was a request, not a command, but Geralt marveled at the intimacy, at the thought of being fucked by his older self’s lover, at being told to come inside him. And Dandelion did with a grunt, his grip tightening and his breath turning to a gasp as he rode out his orgasm with deep thrusts.

Geralt moaned as he felt hands on his cock again, and he wasn’t sure who’s, but then Jaskier was kissing him and Geralt was coming, the second orgasm sharper, his body so sensitive. He squeezed down on Dandelion’s cock, delighting in the yelp it drew from the poet as he fucked him through it hard.

When Dandelion slowed, Geralt felt warm all over, his muscles heavy and his skin singing, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Soft hands pulled him down to the bed and Dandelion pulled out with care and kissed his shoulders and his cheek and his eyelids, while Jaskier cuddled close.

“You did so well,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt’s hands up to kiss his knuckles. He leaned forward to kiss him once lightly, and then Geralt turned his head to look at Dandelion who was flushed and sweaty and looking very satisfied. His eyes flicked down to the man’s lips and Dandelion grinned and leaned forward to kiss him, lingering only a moment with a bit of tongue and then pulling away.

“Yes, so well,” he agreed, and Geralt glowed with the praise.

They lay there for a bit, catching their breath, Geralt almost feeling like he was about to nod off when he felt the two men he was laying between shifting, both of them brushing against his arms and side, and then he looked up to see them kissing above him. Geralt groaned at the sight of them, the soft slide of their lips, the way Dandelion bit at Jaskier’s mouth, their hands on each other’s arms and sliding over smooth skin.

The bed shifted as the older Geralt came closer, pressing behind Jaskier and mouthing at his neck, his hands sliding down Jaskier’s sides and pulling his hips back and into him. Jaskier whimpered into Dandelion’s mouth, and Geralt watched Jaskier’s cock plump up more even though he'd just come. Jaskier’s sex drive was strong, and they could normally each go at least two rounds if they really wanted to. And they really wanted to a lot.

Dandelion felt around blindly, grabbing at Geralt’s hand and then pulling it to his hip before bowing his body slightly and encouraging Geralt to grope his ass. Then he pulled Geralt’s hand a bit more so the tips of his fingers were just brushing between his cheeks and Geralt thrilled at getting to touch him there.

“I want to fuck both of you,” the older Geralt said, and Geralt looked up at him quickly, meeting his eyes. “Jaskier and Dandelion,” he clarified. The two above him groaned but kept kissing, Jaskier now pushing his hips back more and more with little rocking motions.

Geralt felt Dandelion pull his hand even tighter to him.

“You can wait until another night,” the older Geralt burred, smiling softly at Geralt, and Geralt flushed a little, thinking of it. He knew Jaskier and Dandelion had gone at it… several times… but to have sex with _himself_.... He might need a little courage to work up to it.

The older Geralt pulled back on Jaskier, making him pout as it pulled him away from Dandelion’s lips, but let himself be pushed down into the bed on his back. Then the older Geralt made a little circle motion to Geralt and Dandelion which they took to mean _switch positions_ , and Dandelion was smiling at Geralt fondly, tucking a lock of stray hair behind Geralt’s ear and then pulling lightly on his arm so he was sitting. Dandelion briefly straddled him and gave him a quick kiss and a wink before sliding off the other side and down on the bed next to Jaskier, both of them grinning up at the two Geralts.

“Can you occupy Dandelion while Jaskier gets his turn first?” the older Geralt said, and Geralt felt heat flash across his cheeks. “Get him nice and open and ready for me? Start slow, but he likes it when you get a bit rough.”

Geralt nodded and Dandelion immediately grabbed Geralt’s hand again and rolled to his side, hitching his top leg up so it was sliding over Jaskier’s and giving Geralt ample access. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder at Geralt, smiling with a bit of a come-hither look, and wiggling his ass back at him, and Geralt leaned forward onto his forearm. He let Dandelion slide his hand over the swell of his ass and between his legs, until he was brushing against his tight hole and making little grunts of pleasure with each circle of his finger.

“Yes,” Dandelion said breathily when Geralt pushed in just the tip of one finger, and Geralt heard Jaskier moan full and throaty, and turned to watch the older Geralt putting one hand behind Jaskier’s knee to fully open him, and slip in two well-oiled fingers easily. Jaskier tipped his head back, hips bucking upward, his movements jostling Geralt and Dandelion.

Dandelion felt around on the bed and then pressed the vial of oil back into Geralt’s palm, and he quickly fumbled with it, getting his fingers slick and then sliding one in easily. Dandelion opened up beautifully to him, taking a second finger in quickly, wriggling on them and pumping his hips backwards. Geralt gave into the temptation of the lean expanse of his tanned back and moved forwards to mouth at his shoulder blades and along the curve of his lovely shoulder. He pushed Dandelion's hair away with his nose and then pressed closer, trailing kisses along his neck while Dandelion purred quietly.

They felt Jaskier shift beside them and the two looked over to see the older Geralt pushing back Jaskier’s other leg and sliding them apart, easing his cock in slowly while Jaskier scrunched up his face in pleasure.

“Doing alright?” the older Geralt asked, and Jaskier nodded quickly, opening his beautiful blue eyes and smiling brilliantly up at the older Geralt and then over at the two of them.

“Fucking amazing,” Jaskier laughed before cutting it off into a whine as the older Geralt flexed his hips and pushed in a little more.

Geralt watched Jaskier get taken apart slowly, thoroughly, Jaskier’s cock drooling against his stomach and his legs getting pushed back until he was nearly bent in two. They picked up the pace quickly, though, Jaskier grabbing the older Geralt’s hair and tugging on it, before pulling him down into a demanding kiss. Then he worked his hand between their bodies, giving Jaskier a gentle stroke up and down.

"Quicker," Geralt found himself saying gruffly after a few moments of watching them couple. "With your hand." The older Witcher complied immediately and Jaskier fluttered his eyelids shut and then he arched his whole body, shooting come on his stomach and husking out a hearty _“Fuck”_ as he grasped onto Geralt’s shoulders and rode it out.

Then the older Geralt smiled at the two of them, predatory, his cock still hard inside of Jaskier but tugging Dandelion over by the hips so he was right next to the bard, Geralt’s fingers still buried in him.

“Did he do a good job, ‘lion?” he asked Dandelion, and Geralt felt his stomach flip when Dandelion bit his lip and nodded, shooting him a grin. And then, _then_ , the older witcher had his finger pressed up right where Geralt’s two were, and Geralt drew his to the side so the older man could ease in his to make it three, Dandelion mewling on them, twitching his hips as they gently fucked him with their fingers while Jaskier whispered next to them, “Fuck that’s hot.”

Dandelion had to laugh a little, breaking off into a moan again as first the older Geralt withdrew his finger and then Geralt did as well, Geralt drawing Dandelion’s knee back and looking down at his beautifully exposed hole, wet with oil, the man’s head thrown back and his brows pulled down with need.

“Please,” he murmured to no one in particular, and then the older Geralt was pulling carefully out of Jaskier, shifting over, and then plowing right inside Dandelion. Geralt watched him open easily, the spread of him obscene around Geralt’s cock that was still warm from Jaskier.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” the older Geralt groaned above him, and though they must’ve fucked a thousand times before, Geralt sure as fuck hadn’t seen anything as hot.

Dandelion let himself get pushed down into the mattress by his Geralt’s big body, kissing his lover and then feeling around again in order to pull Geralt by the wrist and draw him closer. He turned his head, capturing Geralt’s lips messily, stopping to grunt every once in a while at a particularly deep thrust.

“Your cock—” He said into Geralt’s lips, though he meant the other Geralt. “Fucking amazing.” And then he was back to kissing Geralt, tangling his hands in his hair and then pulling away to gasp. Then Jaskier was hovering nearby on the other side, kissing Dandelion gently, petting his hair, guiding Geralt’s hands down Dandelion’s chest and stomach and the two of them circling his cock.

Dandelion shuddered with the three of them on him, under all of their attention, his half-lidded eyes flicking between them before fluttering shut.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” the older Geralt said reverently as he angled Dandelion’s hips up, driving into him deeply.

Geralt could feel Dandelion tense, his own hand slipping over Jaskier’s, and he knelt closer to graze his teeth on Dandelion’s shoulder, gathering the courage to whisper, “So beautiful.” And Dandelion smiled brilliantly but then scrunched his nose just like Jaskier had, his orgasm flickering gorgeously over his features as his come wet their hands.

And Geralt was stuttering his hips, fucking Dandelion hard and bottoming out with a guttural groan as he finally came. Geralt watched in fascination at the open pleasure and the way his older self's mouth panted wetly, how lovely his eyelashes were and the hook of his nose, the curve of his jaw and white hair slipping out of its tie, the clench of his scarred muscles like a giant cat flexing its power. Did he look like _that_ when he came? 

Then Jaskier smiled at him across from Dandelion, almost shyly, and Geralt found himself smiling back in response and flopping his head back on the pillow, letting his mind be free of anything at all but this moment, for once.

After the slick sounds of thrusting slowed, the older Geralt leaned close to Dandelion, cutting off Geralt’s view of Jaskier’s smiling face. “Love you love you love you,” he whispered into Dandelion’s ear, and Geralt heard it clearly though it was so very soft, his face heating again.

The bed dipped as Jaskier crawled around the pair and wedged himself next to Geralt, pushing his way under his arm and then resting his head on his chest as the other two settled onto their sides next to him, looking both sated and exhausted.

“Love you, too,” Jaskier said into Geralt’s skin, pressing a tender kiss there, and Geralt felt lighter than he could ever remember. 

The last rays of light were fading from the darkening sky in the big picture window, and Geralt shifted, his stomach suddenly growling with hunger. He frowned, wondering if he’d had anything much to eat with all of that wine they’d had for dinner.

“Want me to scrounge up a plate of something?” Dandelion said, his voice muffled into his Geralt’s bicep. 

Geralt looked down and Jaskier seemed to be sleeping already, his soft snoring an endearing feature Geralt had learned to live with over the years.

“Perhaps,” Geralt wagered, not really wanting to put out his host. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier, too, but the thought of more of that roast pheasant was making his mouth water.

Dandelion smiled at him lazily, though, kissing his Geralt and then sliding up from the bed. He threw on his long, ruffled shirt, the hem of it barely covering his pert ass, wet with come, and Geralt tried to look away from the display but found he just couldn’t, nor did he really want to. 

“Is this what we’ll be doing all summer then?” he asked Dandelion a bit cheekily, feeling a touch more confident than he had earlier in the evening.

“And all next, if you’d like,” Dandelion said with a wink. He smiled at his own Geralt who was pulling a blanket up to cover himself and Jaskier and then reclining lazily with a hand in Jaskier’s mess of hair. Then he pulled Geralt off the bed by the hand and down the stairs with him, Geralt still buck naked and flushed. There was no one else in the house at this hour though, and Dandelion raided the pantry before sitting down on a stool next to Geralt, bringing dried fruits and a sweet bread up to his lips and laughing as Geralt licked the crumbs off of his fingers.

Then he drew closer, petting Geralt’s hair and then pushing it back behind his ears with two hands before drawing Geralt’s face up so he could look him right in the eyes. He was so beautiful, so absolutely gorgeous, so Jaskier but so _not_ , though that little twinkle in his eyes was exactly the same.

“Are you going to make an honest man of him?” Dandelion said, and Geralt felt his stomach twist in anticipation, because it was a thought that had been hovering in the back of his mind since, well… forever. Because it had always been Jaskier, sunny and bright, loving and beautiful, and just so _easy_ to be with. He couldn’t ever imagine being without him.

He swallowed and licked his lips, the taste of Dandelion and Jaskier on them, mixed with the sweetness of the sugar Dandelion had been feeding him. “Yes,” he said quietly, and Dandelion’s grin was brighter than the sun.

“Brilliant,” he said, licking his own fingers. He smiled again, eyes crinkling. “I won’t tell though. Not until you’re ready.”

Geralt nodded, nervous, but in the best way, this time. “Thank you.” And then he swallowed again, his smile shy. “Thank you for everything.”

Dandelion returned the smile lovingly, kissing him on the cheek and then gathering up a plate of sweets to bring back upstairs to the bedroom. “Anything for my White Wolf.” 

And he disappeared up the stairs, Geralt trailing behind with his own plate and a little smile on his face, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Please say hello on tumblr! I’m there as [badwolfbadwolf](http://badwolfbadwolf.tumblr.com)!


End file.
